


Teaching the Git

by defnearas



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, One includes non-con (doesn't involve Sherlock or John), The other includes domestic abuse (doesn't involve Sherlock or John), Trigger Warnings: Two of the cases might be triggers, Unilock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defnearas/pseuds/defnearas
Summary: John is a senior at uni TAing an advanced neuroscience course. One of his students is Sherlock, whom John insulted a couple of years back. Things do not go the way either of them expected.





	Teaching the Git

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MelindaGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelindaGhost/gifts).



> not beta read. feel free to let me know any mistakes. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy it.

Around 2 and a half years ago…

John was waiting for his roommate to get out of class outside the chemistry labs. Lo and behold, Anderson was the first person to get out.  
“Hey mate!” Anderson said as he walked past John.  
“Wait, what’s the rush?” John protested as he caught up to his roommate.  
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just… You know the high school kid in my class?” Anderson asked.  
John nodded. Of course he knew of the high school kid. The kid was infamous. Striking for his 15 years of age. Perfectly curly hair. The beautiful ever changing eyes. Smarter than, well, everyone. Including the professors. He knew it. And he made sure everyone else knew it too. Posh accent. Posh clothes. Posh car that came with a driver. Posh name. Sherlock Holmes. What kind of name was even that?  
“I asked a question in class and before the TA got a chance to answer it, he told me to shut up because I was lowering the IQ of the whole university. I just want to get as far away as possible from the little shit.”  
“Don’t worry about it” John tried to console his roommate. “He sounds like a git. Asking questions in class is the smart thing to do. I’m sure the TA appreciated that you were paying attention and trying to learn.”  
Anderson mumbled something in the affirmative and added “Thank bloody fuck the semester is almost over” before stopping abruptly. “Oi mate hold on. I see Sally. I need to ask her something. I’ll be right back.”  
As Anderson was walking away, someone bumped into John. John was about to apologize but the person kept on walking. John was about to call the person out for being a jerk when he recognized the person. Sherlock Holmes. The kid must have been right behind them.  
“Watson.” A rugby teammate stopped next to John.  
“Hi Dimmock. Ready for summer? Three blissful months of no daily practice.”  
Dimmock chuckled. “Sure, am. But I am most excited about getting rid of my roommate. Man, he is so bloody annoying. You must relate. Anderson is as annoying as they come.”  
John grimaced. “He is not that bad.”  
“Mate, even I want to strangle him sometimes and I only see him once a week for the chemistry lab. Like today, he just would not stop asking irrelevant questions in class today. The TA looked like he was about to start crying. He finally stopped after the high school kid put him in his place.”  
John looked toward where Sherlock had walked away but could not find him.  
“Oh.” Before John could form a sound reply, Anderson came back.  
“Later, mate” Dimmock walked away without a glance towards Anderson. 

Now…

John was nervous. He was so nervous that he was 40 minutes early. He was also very proud. Normally, an advanced lab course such as Collaborative Neuroscience Research Lab would be taught by a graduate student. But here he was, only a senior, teaching it. The reason was that there wasn’t a graduate student available to teach the course this semester. However, it was still an honor to be chosen out of all the seniors.  
John contemplated whether or not to write his name on the board and then whether or not to distribute the syllabus to the empty seat. He decided to do the former but not the latter. After he wrote “John Watson” on the board, he erased it. He tried writing out “John Hamish Watson”, which he was not content with either. He finally wrote “John H. Watson”, which he decided looked dignified. It was still 35 minutes to class. He attempted to pass the time by pacing but it made him look deranged. He took a break from the pacing and checked the list of names taking his course. There was a last minute addition: Sherlock Holmes.  
John was surprised. No one at the university had heard from him for almost 3 years. John accessed Sherlock’s transcript before he realized what he had done. He looked away from the computer feeling guilty. “But this is an advanced course and I need to know if he is ready to take such an advanced course” he tried to reason with himself. “But I did not do this for any of the other students” he argued. He sighed and signed off from Sherlock’s transcript. He decided to look over all the student’s transcripts since he still had 33 minutes before the class. He was going to look at Sherlock’s transcript last. This was a great idea! It would provide him with a better understanding of the students in his class. He would be more equipped to know what his students knew or what they were interested in.  
After spending a minute or two on all the other students, he was finally looking at Sherlock’s transcript. William Sherlock Scott Holmes, who apparently was barely 18 years old, was taking five courses this semester. All advanced science courses except an introductory psychology course. He had not taken any classes the previous semester. “Why would he wait until the spring semester to start university?” John thought to himself. There were another eight courses Sherlock had taken two years prior. “He must have taken all these when he was still in high school” John surmised. “Wow, he really is very impressive taking all these courses and receiving As at that age.” John was impressed. Honestly, he had always been impressed of Sherlock.  
He thought back to that incident two years and nine months ago. He had always felt guilty about that. He was sure Sherlock heard him talking to Anderson. He continued to be Anderson’s friend all these years. However, they were not roommates anymore. John liked Anderson. He truly did. Anderson was not an evil person or anything. He just liked Anderson in small dosages.  
He checked the time. It was ten minutes until the class had to start. He scoffed. At least the revelation of seeing Sherlock Holmes on the rooster kept him occupied for over twenty minutes and helped him forget about his nervousness.  
If you asked John about the first non-introductory course he ever taught (aka this one), he would not be able to tell you a lot about it. It was mostly a blur. The students came in. He gave out the syllabus and went over it with the students. He named four articles to read for the following week. He divided the twelve students into four groups. He explained the students each group was design and carry out a different experiment with EEG. He must have said other things. Maybe he got to know the students a little. He did not really remember it. He did remember a set of incandescent eyes attached to a properly respectful young man. A couple of things were wrong with this. First, when did the scrawny high school boy became this striking young man? Another, Sherlock Holmes never used to be proper or respectful. He was a handful. Too brilliant. Too outspoken. While John personally never been in the same class with Sherlock, as previously mentioned, Sherlock was infamous. Everyone at the university knew of the high school kid and his antics.  
John had been nervous about this first class. The cold sweats kind of nervous. But Sherlock had made him nervous in a different way. The warm and fuzzy kind of nervous. John kept waiting Sherlock to correct him like he has previously done with many professors. Professors! People with actual graduate degrees and years of experience!! That was an empty worry on John’s part since he did not actually teach anything this first class. It was not like Sherlock could correct the syllabus. This would not surprise you if you knew John. He was smart. Very smart. However, John did not think with his head. He thought with his heart. So irrational fears came with the territory of thinking with one’s heart.  
To the contrary of John’s irrational fears, Sherlock was an upstanding student. He was appropriately early for the class. He sat in the middle row. He neither dosed off nor disturbed the class. He was quite attentive but not to a scary amount. He did not ask a single question throughout the class. However, he answered questions when he was asked. What more could John want?  
As John packed up his stuff, he told himself to be content. The first class he ever taught of an advanced course went very smoothly. He should be content. He stopped by the flat he shared with Mike, a fellow pre-med student who was also his rugby mate, to grab dinner. He went to the refrigerator to get his leftover Chinese food from the previous night. There was a note on the refrigerator saying “Johnnyboy, I am leaving for the women’s shelter. I’ll probably be asleep by the time you come back from work. I hope you first Collab lab went great! I can’t wait to hear all about it!!!” John smiled. Mike Stanford was one of the nicest people you could ever meet. He was friendly to everyone and very considerate. Of course, Mike would leave him a sweet note on his way to volunteer at a women’s shelter.  
After John finished his cold leftovers and changed his clothes, he left for his part-time job. John was a night janitor at the university. He worked 3 days a week from 8PM to 2AM at buildings that were open 24-7, such as the main library, campus security, fire station and health center. He started with the library and left the campus security for last. He had become friends with a campus security officer. John liked taking his time after he was done, hanging out and chatting with the guy.  
“One butterbeer latte for the dashing young officer that keeps our university safe.” John called out as he entered the station.  
“Ugh, mate. That sounds disgusting.” Greg answered.  
John sipped from his cup as he offered the other to Greg. “Don’t lie. You love it. Otherwise, you would not drink every single cup of coffee I bought for you.” John smirked.  
“It’s free coffee at one in the morning. Of course, I am going to drink them.” Greg grumbled. He made a face as he took his first sip. Pretending to not like something was hard work. However, Gregory Lestrade never shied away from hard work.  
“I also got some biscuits for the cuppa we can have after I’m done.” John said with a smile.  
“Perfect. I’ll have the tea ready by the time you are done.”  
For John, best part about this job was meeting Greg. Well, the money first and meeting Greg second. John was a popular guy. He was the youngest student to ever make rugby captain. (He became the captain as a sophomore!) He was able manage being “Three Continent Watson” and having the reputation of a nice guy. While holding two part time jobs (the night janitor one and the teaching assistant one), he still participated in various clubs. All kinds of students loved John. The jocks loved him. Duh, the youngest rugby captain ever. The nerds loved him because John was a not-so-secretly a huge nerd. The LGBTAQ+ community loved him because John was out (as bi) and proud. He was involved in many of their activities. Many people considered John a friend. He partied with the wild ones and spent his days at the library studying with the studious ones. On the other hand, John considered almost everyone an “acquaintance”. To him he had two true friends: Mike and Greg. It wasn’t that he was faking being the life of a party. He genuinely liked people and enjoyed treating people with kindness. However, he had a somewhat rocky life. He felt like his current life was hanging on by a thread. One missed payment and everything would come down like a house of cards. So in his minds, “friend” meant that he could really count on that person. And people you can depend on do not grow in trees. John felt luck that he found two! One of them thanks to this job.  
As John and Greg drank their tea around two in the morning, they liked to gossip. Don’t judge! Everyone gossips and it is anti-feminist to assign a gender to gossiping.  
“How was your class?” Greg prompted.  
“It went well. There was no knowledge exchange today anyways. There was something exciting about it though.” John answered.  
“Yeah?”  
“Well, exciting for people who have been around longer than two years. You probably would not think much of it.”  
Greg gave John a pointed look that he hoped conveyed ‘out with it’.  
“Have you ever heard of the high school kid who used to take classes here a couple of years ago? He was very smart but he really annoyed a lot of people including some very important professors.”  
“Sherlock Holmes?” Greg guessed.  
“Yeah! Wait, what? You not only heard of him but also know his full name?” John was admittedly a bit shocked.  
“I hadn’t until this week. I found out because his dorm room got robbed.”  
“Oh, no! That sucks. Did you work his case?”  
“No, I didn’t.” Greg chuckled. “Smart but highly annoying sounds about right. He annoyed the boss man so much that all the guards have heard of what happened.”  
“He seemed nice in my class.”  
“Oh, you have him as a student? Good luck with that!” Greg grimaced.  
John shoved Greg jokingly. “Stop that. He is not that bad. Or so I hear. Did you guys ever find his stuff?”  
Greg started laughing so hard that tears came down from his eyes. “No we didn’t. He did. You should have seen the boss man’s face when Sherlock lead him to the culprit. One of the other guards took a video of the whole thing. He even provided airtight evidence against the guy. Wait, I have the video on my phone. You have to see it.”  
The video was admitted impressive. Sherlock and his regal mannerism were leading security guards through the campus explaining the evidence as he made snide remarks about incompetence. The “boss man” (aka head security guard) was turning more and more purple by the minute. The culprit was cartoonishly shocked to find Sherlock and security guards at his door.  
John was laughing almost as hard as Greg was by the end of the video.  
“He really is something, isn’t he?” John asked.  
Greg was still laughing too hard to use his words so he simply nodded.  
“Did he mention at any point what he was doing for the last two years?” John could not help but ask.  
“Nah. He did mention that the dorm room was his parents idea and that the robbery was enough of an excuse to move off campus.”  
Both John and Greg had another fit of laugh.  
John forgot how tiring this job could be when he had to take and give classes at the same time. On the minus side, he was teaching an advanced course for the first time meaning that it was a lot more work than teaching an introductory lab for the forth time. On the plus side, two of his four courses were independent research classes meaning that he got to make up his schedule. He had a three-hour seminar on Monday and another one on Tuesday. He was teaching the collab lab on Thursdays. Since he worked on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday as a janitor, he only had two tough days a week. Mondays and Thursdays. Tuesdays and Wednesdays were easier with either only going to class or going to work. He had three whole days to do his homework. That night was the end of his first week with classes and work. He wanted to sleep for the next three days. He would too if he let himself. But alas, he already had homework. That night, though, he did sleep like a log. And if he saw a pair of incandescent eyes ever changing its colors like the sea, he did not remember it in the morning.  
A couple weeks into the semester and John was dealing with his life like a boss. He was on top of his two seminar courses and his two independent research courses. He was also acing the whole teaching thing. The groups had chosen their research topics and they were almost done with their literature reviews. There was only one problem bothering him. It honestly was not that John thought things were going so good that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It wasn’t. It was just that Sherlock was acting super weird. He was acting like any other student. John had noticed that Sherlock, who used to be a smartass high school kid, only answered some of the questions he asked the class. There were times when John would ask a question to his class and no one would answer it, not even Sherlock. John knew Sherlock knew the answer. He did not understand why Sherlock would not give him the answer. It was not like Sherlock was not paying attention to the class. And Sherlock did sometimes answer John’s questions. More specifically, John noticed that Sherlock answered four of his questions per class. Every class. It was almost like Sherlock was trying to hold himself back but John did not know why. He blamed himself. Maybe he was not a support enough instructor. One time, John tried to goat Sherlock to speak a fifth time by making a blatantly incorrect statement as he was lecturing. He looked at Sherlock right after and saw that Sherlock was looking down with a sad look on his face, like he was disappointed in John or something. John stopped his lecture to tell his students off for not catching the obvious mistake he made on purpose. He continued to say there were three possibilities: either they did not do the reading so they did not know that John said something incorrect, they were not paying attention so they did not catch the mistake, or John is a horrible TA and was not able to cultivate a good learning environment so the students were not comfortable correcting him. He apologized if the latter was true and tried to encourage his students to always ask him questions, to speak their minds and to challenge him. John was sure that this would lead to Sherlock answering more questions but it did not. This lead to John changing his lesson plans a bit. He started to ask the most difficult questions in the first half of the class and only leave the easier questions for later. He did this so that Sherlock would at least be answering interesting questions that other students would not be able to answer anyways. It still bothered him, though. He failed to create an environment in which one of the most brilliant students in the university could engage with his class.  
What was worse that it appeared that the ones closest to him got the opportunity to experience Sherlock’s awesomeness. First, Greg. Then Mike…  
“Something smells incredible.” Mike remarked as he entered his apartment.  
“I am making curry. It’ll be done in ten minutes. You’ll eat with me, yeah?” John replied back.  
“Definitely! Let me quickly change.”  
John set up the table and brought the pots over.  
On his way back, Mike stopped by the refrigerator. “How about Crabbie’s ginger beer?”  
“Oh, no. You never drink beer before 10 at night. What’s wrong?”  
“It’s just have been a long day.”  
“Ginger beer sounds perfect. Now, come join me and tell your roommate slash captain what’s got you bothered.”  
Mike offered John one of the beers as he sat across from him. “Nothing really. It’s just that we found out at the women’s shelter today that one of the professors here was abusing his wife. It just hit a bit close home, you know?”  
“Yeah. Bloody hell! Who is it?”  
“Dr Hudson.” Mike said with disgust.  
“What is his wife going to do now? Does she have a plan?”  
“Yeah actually. It’s kind of amazing how it all went down. The whole thing is wrapped nicely with a bow. Happy ending for Martha.”  
“So what got you so down?” John eyed Mike.  
“Just that someone so close to home could be such a despicable human being and that not many women who come to the shelter get a happy ending. By the way, Johnnyboy, this curry is delicious.”  
“Thanks, mate. So are you going to tell me this amazing story or what?”  
“You know the infamous former-high-school-boy currently in your class?”  
“Sherlock Holmes?”  
“Yeah, him. Well apparently, his dorm room got robbed in the beginning of the semester so he moved out of dorms into a flat Dr and Mrs Hudson was renting in their townhouse right next to the campus. You know the one, 221 Baker Street? There is a small coffee shop on the ground floor? Anyways, Sherlock’s flat was above Dr and Mrs Hudson’s flat. Apparently, Sherlock and Martha grew close and Martha one day confided in him. With Sherlock’s help, Martha gathered enough evidence to get Dr Hudson arrested. And that was just the beginning. The arrest let the worms out of the can. Turns out that Dr Hudson was an important figure for the cartel and his arrest led the police to a lot of important information about the cartel. For retaliation, the cartel killed Dr Hudson while he was in custody of the yard. Now, Martha is abuser free and very wealthy. She owns another townhouse close by, which she donated to the women shelter.”  
“That is an amazing story.” John was in awe.  
“Yeah, but the world is an ugly place. Martha is a really sweet women and to think the abuse she had to face for all those years breaks my heart.”  
“Oh, Mike. You are a total marshmallow.” John smiled in a way he hoped assured Mike.  
“How is it to have such a person in your class? He is extraordinary.” Mike inquired.  
“Well, actually… He is a great student but he is pretty ordinary in my class.” John said wistfully.  
“Huh.” Mike insightfully provided. They moved on to the other topics; however, John was kept thinking why everyone else got to see Sherlock brightly shine but him.  
That week the literature reviews of the groups in his class were due. John was inappropriately excited. Three years ago, Sherlock used to be known for doing the work of all his group projects himself. John was curious to see whether Sherlock was going to do the same again. His group’s literature review was the first one John read. To John’s disappointment, it was obvious from the papers mediocrity that Sherlock did not write the whole thing. After he read all the papers, he submitted them to his plagiarism program. This program compared submissions to anything that was written on the internet as well as to a large amount of books and journals.  
To John’s surprise, this program determined that Sherlock’s group plagiarized several sentences from a blog. John immediately checked this blog out. This blog was on research in the field of neuroscience. It included reviews of various papers, all of which were required readings for his class, along with a step-by-step construction of a research project, which was basically what they were doing in class. The reviews of papers were composed of their key points, other papers that support or contradict them and something called ‘the dirty laundries’. ‘The dirty laundries’ were everything the authors of these papers were trying to hide or were mistaken about. “Brilliant!” John muttered to himself as he was reading. When he moved on to the step-by-step construction of a research project, he was not caught off guard to find out that the research topic was similar to the research topic of Sherlock’s group. The blog’s version, though, much more advanced. The blog only contained the research topic and the literature review. It was noted that ‘the methodology’, ‘the results’ and ‘the discussion’ section were ‘coming soon’. He clicked on the literature review. The literature review that might get Sherlock’s group in a lot of trouble. Plagiarism was taken very seriously at their university. “Extraordinary” John whispered.  
There was a reason graduate students usually taught the Collab labs: It included writing a research paper and grading research papers require a lot more experience reading research papers than a regular undergraduate education provides. When the department had no choice but to give this position to John, a professor gave him a tutorial on how to write proper research papers. “A common mistake undergrads do” he had explained “is they think too highly of previously done research. They try to summarize and talk about the awesomeness of studies they like. That is not how you write a proper research paper. You use previously done research as your tools. You take an important finding and use that as part of your reasoning for the current research study you are doing. Which brings me to another common mistake undergrads do. They add their comments to the literature review. I don’t fucking care what the student thinks. The best literature reviews have a reference after almost every sentence. Sometimes, seemingly most obvious things don’t turn out to be true. That’s why there should always be a previously done research to back up all the student’s statements.” The prof also provided John with numerous examples of good and bad research papers. John had found that writing a good literature review was kind of like setting up a domino display. One needed to take distinct tiles and arranged them in such a way that they flowed perfectly.  
The literature review on this blog was like that. It was succinct, full of information, convincing and it had a great flow. Unfortunately, it was very apparent that this literature review had a lot of influence on the literature review of Sherlock’s group but it was not cited at all. John was starting panic. He was not sure how he should be handling this. He got the impression that the person behind the blog was in his class; however, he could not be sure. Plus, was it plagiarism when you reused your own sentences? Then, he saw that the literature review was published on the blog the day after his class turned theirs in. This meant that the homework he was responsible for was not plagiarized, which was a great load off his shoulders. He decided to e-mail the professor who taught him about writing research papers just in case. Afterwards, he checked out the ‘about me’ section of the blog. It was empty except for ‘WSSH’. “It has to be him. Very intelligent comments on papers read in my class, sentences from the literature review of Sherlock’s group and same initials. Who else could it be? Wait, I might be biased. Am I biased?” John was having a full-on conversation with himself. He finally decided that he might be a tad biased because reasons. Therefore, he grabbed Mike, who was actually busy, explained him everything. Mike agreed that it could only be Sherlock.  
John thanked Mike and sent him away to be alone with his irrational indignation. Sherlock was as brilliant as ever. However, John’s class was not an outlet for his brilliance. Sherlock would rather create a blog to pour his brilliance to. What was wrong with John that he did not deserve Sherlock’s brilliance? Why did John not get to argue with Sherlock over the merit of the papers they were reading in class? Why did not Sherlock think John was worthy enough to be challenged or questioned? John was furious now. He was jealous of everyone who had a chance to experience Sherlock’s brilliance.  
He thought about mentioning the blog in class or making comments on the blog. Then, he decided that he was not entitled to this side of Sherlock. If Sherlock did not want to share his brilliance with John, that was his choice. John did print out everything on the blog and made comments on them with a pen. He figured that if Sherlock ever decided to share this side of himself with John, than John could give him the printouts.  
Stating that revelation of this blog did not change John’s teaching would not be accurate. After finding out about the blog, John started to encourage more critical discussions in class of the readings they were doing. He would ask the students to find the flaws of the papers they were reading and then come up with ways the flaws could have been avoided and debate whether or not the flaws canceled out the paper’s merits. The fact that Sherlock’s eyes sparkled during these parts of the class did not have any effect on John (that he was willing to admit).  
John’s not-so-little fascination with Sherlock was being fueled three fold: the class, the blog and his work with the women’s shelter that Mike would not shut up about. At least, Greg had moved on from the robbed dorm room incident and forgotten about Sherlock. Until…  
“One salted caramel mocha for the dashing young officer that keeps our university safe.” John called out as he entered the station.  
“He is currently busy” a timid female voice answered.  
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” John immediately replied. He entered the waiting area this woman was sitting in. “I am John, by the way. The night janitor.” He took a real look at the woman. She looked deflated but determined. Her make up showed signs of crying and she was clinging to the male jacket she was wearing a bit too tight. John suddenly recognized her from one of his classes. He felt a sense of foreboding. He should not have talked to her. He should not have come into this room. He should not have entered the station in such an unabashed manner. “Well, I should get to work. Thank you for letting me know about Greg.” John tried to take his leave.  
“I know you. John, right?” the woman said before John could run away.  
“Yeah. Pre-med student as well as a night janitor.” John was staring at his shoes, which had become the most fascinating objects in the entire universe all of a sudden.  
“It’s all right. You can relax. I would enjoy some company, actually.” The woman gestured to the seat next to her.  
“I don’t want to intrude.” John made a last attempt.  
The woman gave her a look and John gave up.  
“Well, then, you’re options are a salted caramel mocha or a snickerdoodle hot cocoa.” John gestured at the drinks he was holding.  
“Snickerdoodle hot cocoa, if you don’t mind. Molly. We were in a biology course together last year.”  
“Yeah, I remember” John gave her the drink.  
They drank their sweet and hot concoctions in silence for a while.  
“A friend of mine is giving his testimony to Greg. Well, he is not really my friend. More like a kind stranger. I am done. I don’t even know why I am waiting for him.”  
John nodded not knowing what to say. “I also have biscuits, if you would like some.”  
Molly gave him a sad smile. “I’m ok.”  
“Would you like to help me?” John found himself asking.  
“Excuse me?”  
“Well, I thought doing something might help.” John was not sure it was a good idea anymore.  
“You know what? I’d like that.”  
John and Molly got to work. Half an hour later, they were almost done when they heard a door. John could hear Greg and a baritone speaking but couldn’t tell what the voices were exactly saying. The voices grew closer and closer. John left the room to put away the cleaning supplies in order to give the others a sense of privacy.  
As he was coming back, it dawned on him that he knew that baritone voice. It was Sherlock! John made the very rational decision to hide in the janitor’s closet until Sherlock and Molly left. He felt guilty about not saying goodbye to Molly but that was neither here nor there.  
A short while later, Greg opened the closet door. “Is there a specific reason you are hiding in here?”  
“How did you know?”  
“There was no way you left without talking to me at all tonight. Plus, I thought you might have felt awkward about the whole situation.”  
“Yeah, well…”  
“If you were wondering, Molly did not mention anything about you invading her privacy. She actually appreciated your company. God knows why…”  
“She is nice. I actually know her from a class. She’s really smart too.”  
“She was sad that you ‘left’ without saying goodbye. You should grab coffee or something. She needs friends right now. Friends who know already. Friends that she would not need to give any upsetting news to.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I should. Was that really…” John trailed off.  
“Sherlock? It was. He looks all high and mighty like he could not give a crap about us lowly humans but it’s all an act. I think so anyways. I am not sure I can read him well. So, any specific reason you hid from him?”  
“I just feel awkward about meeting my students outside the class.”  
Greg gave him a look that suggested that he wasn’t buying John’s excuse but he wasn’t going to push John further.  
After that night, Greg mentioned Sherlock a lot more. Even on numerous occasions, Greg recruited Sherlock’s help on solving some tough cases. While Greg never gave any details on the cases (especially on Molly’s), it was crystal clear that Greg respected and even admired Sherlock’s brilliance. Moreover, after that night, Molly and John grew close. They both were pre-med. They both were TAs. Most importantly, Molly’s nerdiness matched John’s nerdiness. First, John had sent Molly a message on facebook apologizing for not saying goodbye. They had started to talk and decided to meet for coffee. Now, they met for coffee once a week at least.  
A couple of weeks into their weekly coffee dates, Molly was happier than John had ever seen her. They got a white chocolate hot cocoa and a toffee almond hot cocoa along with a brownie, a chocolate chip cookie and two cake pops.  
“What’s up with the chocolate overdose?” John inquired.  
“We are celebrating.” Molly stated excitedly.  
“What exactly are we celebrating?”  
“The fact that the douchebag who hurt me is going to get what he deserves.” Molly said as a matter factly.  
“Oh.” John did not want to pry but wanted to be encouraging. “That’s wonderful.” He raised his hot cocoa. “Cheers.”  
“You never asked me any questions about it?” Molly’s statement sounded more like a question.  
“I assumed you would tell me, when you want to tell me if ever.”  
Molly smiled. “You, John Watson, are a good person.”  
John was embarrassed so he decided to sip from his hot cocoa instead.  
Molly continued. “One of my friends just got dumped so she wanted to go out and party. We fancied dancing so we went to Phi Tau. We drank a bit too much. We were talking to some of the brothers and I mentioned that I wasn’t feeling great. One of them, whose name was Sebastian Wilkes, offered to let me use his room until I felt a bit better. I did not leave my friend but she said she could use the opportunity to hook up with one of the other brothers. So, I thought I could just recuperate for like fifteen minutes in Seb’s room before I had to walk home. He led me to his room. He went in first. After I joined him, he closed and locked the door. He promptly told me that I was to blow him if I wanted to get out. I froze up. He added that I could scream all I want but no one would hear me because of the music downstairs. I…” Molly cleared her throat. “He eventually let me out of the room. I got out the frat house and was walking home when I ran into Sherlock. You know of him, yeah? He took one look at me and he told me it wasn’t my fault, the guy was an asshole and he could walk me to the campus security. I was still in shock when I ran into him. I was not functional enough to think clearly enough to report Seb. Anyways, Sherlock’s eccentric honesty snapped me out of it, we went to the campus security and that’s where I met you. Yadee yadee yada. Greg was worried about the case turning into an impossible “he said she said” one. Sherlock went behind our backs and put cameras in Seb’s room. Last weekend, he tried to pull same shit on another girl and it’s all on video.”  
“Is that even legal?” John exclaimed.  
“Not really. But Sherlock’s brother apparently has a lot of power in the government so Seb’s case is not going to trial. He already accepted a pretty bad deal.” Molly smiled brightly.  
“Wow… So fast!!”  
“Yeah. I don’t want to imagine a world where I never ran into Sherlock that night.”  
“I just have one question. What was he doing that night? Was he also going home after a night of partying?” John knew his question was out of nowhere and did not have to do with anything. But he had to know!  
“Not really. He had been at the dancing studio working really late on choreographing.”  
“He dances?” John blurted.  
“Yes. He is really good too. He is going to be in the spring showcase!”  
‘Bloody hell. I hate my life.’ John thought.  
“Anyways, that is the whole story and this is why we are celebrating.” Molly raised her hot cocoa. “Down with assholes like Seb!”  
“I’ll drink to that.” John raised his cup as well.  
John went to every showing of the spring showcase. He was supporting the arts, god damn it.  
The finals week approached before John knew it. He welcomed it and dreaded it at the same time. Neither of these feelings had to do with graduation or med school. He welcomed the end of school because his obsession with Sherlock had gotten out of hand. John found it difficult to be in the same room as Sherlock and to pretend that Sherlock was any other student. On the other hand, the dreaded the end of school because he was not going to be able spend three hours every week in the same room as Sherlock anymore.  
His class had turned in their completed research papers the previous week. Now, they only had a final to take. Truthfully, the final was pretty easy. It was only implemented to make sure that no student slacked off letting their group members carry them in the class. John read the research papers before the final so that the students could look over their papers, see John’s comments and find out their grades (after they were done with their finals, of course). When John got to the classroom, all of the students were already there. Well, all of the students except Sherlock. Sherlock still hadn’t showed up by the time the final started. The students were all done within an hour. The final two students left fifty-five minutes into the final. John was worried about Sherlock. This was not like him at all. John decided to wait another two hours since technically every final took three hours. Therefore, Sherlock could show up at any time and take his exam. As long as he was done before the allotted time for the final was over. He decided to call Molly to see if she heard anything from Sherlock. Just as he was about to call, the door opened and Sherlock entered.  
“Sherlock!” was all John could say. He was startled by Sherlock’s disheveled attire and his eyes that screamed ‘I haven’t slept for 48 hours!’.  
“John, I am an idiot!” Sherlock cried out.  
“I mean yes you are late but it’s fine. You’ll be done in no time.” John tried to comfort Sherlock.  
“No, no that’s not it. I don’t care about that at all.” Sherlock said exasperatedly with big hand gestures.  
John was confused.  
“I know you are interested in me. When you are close to me, your pulse gets higher - signaled by your faster respiration rate - and your pupils dilate. All I wanted to do was to prove you wrong. I wanted you to kick yourself in the ass for making inept judgments about others. I wanted to you to like me. And you did. And it has been awful. Because this is not me. I am not this person you are interested in. I am not this respectable, sensible, smart-but-not-too-smart person. I don’t have friends. Like I’m sure you think the other students in the class were my friends because we were friendly but we are most definitely not. I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all around obnoxious asshole anyone can possibly have the misfortunate to meet. I don’t expect that I will ever have any friends. I am intolerable. I still am everything I was all those years ago.” Sherlock was hyperventilating.  
“Sherlock, please sit. Slow down.” John was at a loss. “I am sorry if my inappropriate feelings are causing you anguish. You don’t have to take the exam. I will go to the Dean right now and report myself. I’m sure they will give you the grade you deserve when they read your blog. Everything will be fine. Why don’t we call someone for you? Should we call Greg? Would that make you feel safer?”  
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Sherlock asked as he sat down.  
“It is very clear that you are aware of the feelings I have felt towards you. I thought I could hide them well but, apparently, I could not. And they have caused you harm. Look at you. I am so sorry. Let’s just call Greg. You do not have to be alone in the same room as me.”  
“What? Stop it. Don’t call Greg. How do you know I know Greg? Doesn’t matter. You do not cause me harm. I cause me harm. I am the one who should be sorry. I am. I am so very sorry that I tricked you.” Sherlock’s breathing had slowed down but his voice still had the exasperated tinge to it.  
“Ok? Actually, not ok. Let’s take this one step at a time.” The statement ‘John is confused’ could not describe him anymore. He was confounded. Perplexed. Completely stumped. “You are aware that I have feelings towards you.”  
“Yes!” Sherlock shouted.  
“But they do not make you feel threatened or pressured into doing something you do not want?”  
“No they don’t.” Sherlock answered flippantly.  
“Do you want to call the campus security or to report me?” Josh asked tentatively.  
“No and no.” Sherlock assured John.  
“Is there any valid reason you should not be taking the final right now?”  
“Not really, no.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
“Then, everything else can wait. Shut up and take your damn exam.” John put a copy of the final on Sherlock’s desk.  
Sherlock was done in 20 minutes. 20 minutes during which John attempted to piece together what Sherlock was telling him.  
“All done.” Sherlock offered his exam to John.  
“I gather what you want to talk about is personal?” John inquired.  
“Yes.” Sherlock replied. He appeared to be more composed.  
“Ok, then. I am officially your instructor until I am done with your final. Let me grade it here and then we can go somewhere else to talk, yeah?” John looked into the incandescent eyes with the color of the sea.  
Sherlock sat back down. “Go ahead. I have time to kill.”  
As John was reading over the exam, he could not help but smile. It was brilliant. Truly brilliant like the blog. Nothing reminiscent of the student from his class.  
While was Sherlock deep in thought, John got up putting away all the papers. “I am done. Let’s get going.”  
“So, how was it?” Sherlock asked with a smirk.  
“You can find out just like everyone else when the grades are uploaded.” John quipped back.  
They started walking out the building.  
“Are you hundred percent sure that you are comfortable around me?” John demanded to know.  
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be? You are basically a teddy bear with rugby shorts and a doctor’s coat.” Sherlock declared.  
John bit his lip not to laugh. “Well, then this teddy bear invites you to his apartment so that we can talk in private. And before you worry or anything, Mike Stanford is my roommate.”  
“Mike’s your roommate? I mean I figured you guys were friends but roommates? There is always something isn’t there? And for the record I was not worried. I think that is an excellent idea.” Sherlock retorted.  
They quickly walked to John’s apartment in silence. John let him in. As they were taking their places on the living room couch, Sherlock was inquisitively looking around.  
“So, want to start from the beginning?” John prompted Sherlock.  
Sherlock took in a big breath. “Three years ago I heard you calling me a ‘git’ while talking to your then-roommate. It upset me a lot because I had a little bit of a crush on you. When I came back at the beginning of this semester, I found out that you were teaching an advanced lab. I decided that I was going to take your class and make you believe that I was this respectable, sensible, smart-but-not-too-smart person and make you regret your snap judgment of me. I mean we weren’t even in any of the same circles. It was not fair for you to decide that you did not like me without knowing me. So, I have been pretending to be someone I am really not for the last couple of months. Because I wanted you to like me. And then you did like me and I had never felt worse in my life. All of a sudden, I wanted you to like the real me. The insufferable one.” Tears started coming down Sherlock’s face. “But why would you? You know what I was doing for the last two years? I spent the former getting high out of this world and the latter getting clean. How could you ever like me? You are the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I’ve ever had the good fortune of knowing. You are one of the biggest supporters of the LGBTAQ+ community in this school. At the bachelor auction only, you make them enough money to last the semester. You convinced the whole rugby team to help out with Take back the Night. Your dedication to your students is exemplary. You treat everyone you meet with such kindness that they feel all warm inside. You…”  
“Sherlock,” John cut him off “I don’t like the version of you from my class.”  
“I… I don’t understand.” Sherlock protested.  
“I think the Sherlock in my class is terribly handsome but he is also boring, ordinary and not worth of my very limited time.”  
“I… But you…” Sherlock tried to form sentences but he was having trouble.  
“I like the Sherlock from the blog – yes I am aware of your blog. I like the Sherlock who helped out his landlord or a stranger he came across one Thursday night. I like the Sherlock who keeps working with the campus security because he loves solving mysteries and helping people. The drugs, I did not know about. But, god help me, I still like you. Because you, Sherlock, are brilliant and extraordinary and amazing.”  
Sherlock was rendered completely speechless. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no sounds were coming out.  
John waited a couple of minutes. “Sherlock…”  
Another couple of minutes… “No, it’s getting a bit scary now.”  
Another couple of minutes… Sherlock took a breath. “So, in fact…” Another breath. “You mean…”  
“Yes” John tried to encourage.  
“You like… You like the real me? Warts and all?” Sherlock asked tentatively.  
“Yeah, of course, I do. Of course, I like you. Warts and all.” John stated. He was going to add something else but the world will never know what that was going to be because Sherlock threw himself at John effectively shutting him up with his mouth.


End file.
